Dystopia
by Moonstone369
Summary: There are two constants in Lois' life--The Daily Planet and Clark, but when one is taken from her, she must leave the other for the streets of Gotham to investigate a mysterious new drug called Red K. There she finds everything she lost can be found again
1. Secret

_Chapter One: Secret_

_**"I know I don't know you**_

_**But I want you so bad**_

_**Everyone has a secret**_

_**But can they keep it**_

_**Oh no they can't"**_

_2012 Metropolis, Daily Planet Building_

"You heading home for the night?" she asked without drawing her gaze from the computer screen that glowed a dull blue against her face.

"The farm actually," he replied as he pulled the navy blue blazer on over his dress shirt. Lois' head jerked up in surprise and delight. She asked the question with her eyes before she could open her mouth to vocalize it. "Mom's home. She's going to be running senatorial headquarters out of Metropolis for a while, so I'm taking the weekend to help her get settled in," Clark answered.

Lois smiled, one of those rare genuine, unreserved smiles that Clark had learned to treasure since he'd started working with Lois at the Planet.

"That's great, Smallville. I bet it'll be nice for you to spend some time with your mom. I know how much you miss her." She smiled again, but Clark recognized the difference between this and the previous smile. If he hadn't been distracted by that, he would have stopped to think about how much Lois seemed to have noticed about him when he thought he was finally getting better at covering up those things.

"Yeah," he said, leaning over to switch off his computer, "I have." She was typing fervently at her computer again. Clark sighed and turned to make his way to the elevator. He could tell there'd been something wrong as of late; he wasn't blind. Ever since that story they'd covered in the Middle East, Lois had been unusually quiet and reserved, and when it came to Lois Lane silence was something Clark had learned to fear. As much as he'd wanted to get to the bottom of it though, he'd spent the entire week making mindless small talk like this. Neither of them were very good at being direct.

Clark paused as he reached the far end of the bullpen and listened to the penetrating sound of her fingers hesitantly hitting the keys in an uneven rhythm. She'd never been a very fast typist.

"Lois?"

"Hmm?"

"You sure you can stay out of trouble without me for two whole days?" He got a derisive snort in reply.

"I get in trouble when you're with me, Smallville; it's what I do," he could hear the smile in her voice, and he wished it would stay there so he could stop worrying about her. He'd felt this odd sort of exhaustion for a few days, and between long nights at the Planet with Lois and his extracurricular activities he hadn't really had a chance to remedy it with a good night's sleep. He was looking forward to some semblance of relaxation. "But seeing as how I'm taking the weekend off too, we can reduce the amount of potential trouble I can pilfer by eliminating the occupational hazards I seem to run up against constantly." Clark turned to face her direction in slight surprise.

"Lois Lane taking off a whole Saturday? Unheard of."

"Don't be silly, Smallville. I take time off all the time."

"To chase a story when Perry tells you to drop it. That's not exactly rest and relaxation."

Lois' brow furrowed in an unthreatening glare, and Clark smiled in reply. He stood silently for one of those moments where a weeks worth of sleepless nights washed over him like a cruel riptide.

"Clark?" Her voice penetrated everything. Clark looked up as he rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"Hmm?"

"You going to stand there all night?"

"What? . . .Oh, no." Clark shook his head and turned toward the direction of the elevator, pausing again before he reached the hall.

"Lois?" No reply came. "If you're going to rest this weekend there's no quieter place than Smallville. You sure you don't want to spend the weekend at the farm?" A chuckle came from across the bullpen as Lois stood up and turned off the monitor for her computer.

"Am I sure, Smallville?" She grabbed her bag and coat. "I thought you'd never ask," and in a few strides she was passing him on her way to the elevator. Still slightly stunned, Clark stood in place as she called back to him. "You coming, or am I going to have to eat all of your mom's apple pie by myself."

Clark laughed and instantly felt lighter. This was the Lois he knew how to handle: bold, brash, sarcastic. He turned and ran to catch the elevator door as she waited silently inside for him with her hand on her hip and a smile on her face.

"Safest way to travel, right?" and Clark answered the memory with a nostalgic smile as he leaned up against the elevator wall and watched the doors close.

"Right, Lois."

_Smallville, Kent Farm_

A knock sounded at the kitchen door of the Kent family farmhouse. Martha Kent looked up from her pile of voting records and state spending budgets, pulling the pair of glasses that hung around her neck onto the bridge of her nose. A smile spread across the woman's face and she hurried to the door to open it.

"Clark," she exclaimed as a man, head and shoulders taller than her, pulled her into a tight embrace, "It's so wonderful to see you; I thought you'd never get away from the Planet since they promoted you to the city desk with Lois." She pulled out of Clark's hug and gave him a good once over.

"It's been almost a year now, mom."

"You know what they say about newspaper men," she paused, "I heard about that hostage situation in New Troy on the news today." Clark met her with a knowing gaze.

"Yeah, but the Blur took care of it. Nobody was hurt. Lois and I filed the copy pretty early in the day." Martha gave him a small but reserved smile.

"The Blur? I've heard people are calling him something else now, even here in Smallville. The Super-Man?" Clark's brow wrinkled in disapproval.

"That'd be Lois' doing, and I'm afraid it's caught on pretty effectively." Martha Kent laughed and gave her son an affectionate squeeze of the arm.

"I don't think it's so bad, and besides with names like the Green Arrow and The Flash to compete with it was bound to happen soon. I think people were finding the Red-Blue Blur to be a bit of a mouthful," Martha chuckled again at her son's unwavering expression of discomfort before his expression changed as if he'd remembered something.

"Speaking of Lois . . ." The distant sound of a car door shutting drew both the Kents' attention out of the open door to the porch.

"Smallville! I found my BlackBerry. It must've fallen under the seat when you hit that pothole," called a voice too loud for the quiet peace of the country. Lois hopped onto the lit porch with a duffel bag and a large purse over her shoulder and a BlackBerry in hand. "Mrs. K!" she exclaimed, quickly pushing Clark out of the way to engulf the older woman in a hug.

"Please, Lois; it's Martha." Lois released her and gave her another one of those smiles Clark had been missing recently. He wondered for the first time that maybe it was him and not the Middle East that had made them so infrequent.

"Whatever you say, Mrs. Kent."

The ease with which Lois had always taken to his mother continued to amaze Clark as he watched them. They were so different, and yet he could see the similarities. He knew that his mother saw in Lois a woman she had once been, a path that she had almost taken in her own life.

"Clark, did you hear me?" his mother called, and he looked up from his reverie.

"Hmm?"

"Could you get the door?" Clark stared at her a minute and then turned to the open doorway.

"Oh . . .Oh, yeah," he wrapped his hand around the side of the door, standing for a moment, and then looked back at the two women. Lois gave him a strange look that he didn't quite understand. It disoriented him. "Actually, I think I'll spend a little time in the barn. I'm sure there are some chores that could be caught up on."

"Smallville," Lois' tone was disappointed, and Clark was attuned enough to her nonverbals to know that she was masking some aggravation as well. He definitely needed some barn time; now he was sure he'd done something. He just didn't know what it was. "You just spent all day at work. Even the Chief thinks you work too hard. The cows can wait 'till morning."

"It's okay, Lois; I won't stay out too late."

Lois turned to Mrs. Kent for backup, but Martha just put her arm around Lois' shoulder and nodded to Clark.

"You go on, honey. Lois and I'll save you some pie." Lois turned to Mrs. Kent with a scowl.

"Speak for yourself." The kitchen door shut softly behind them.

Mrs. Kent led Lois into the living room, and Lois was pulled out of her pout by the sight of the couch neatly made up with a blanket and pillow, just as it had always been when she'd previously lived here.

"I've made up your old room for you if you'd like to put away your things."

"What?" Lois asked slightly dazed. "Oh, no. Clark should sleep in his own room; I can take the couch." She was still staring at it.

"Oh, dear. There must be something wrong. You go ahead and put your things down, and I'll get us some coffee." Lois sighed and smiled a little as Martha ran back to the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee and pull a pie from the oven. Lois let the strap of her overnight bag and her purse slide off of her shoulder and settle at the base of the stairs, before she fell into the cradling corner of the couch. She kicked off her heels and pulled her legs up underneath her, wiggling her toes into the crevice between the two cushions. She closed her eyes and let out a deep breath that'd been trapped inside of her all week. She was home; she was safe here at the farm with Clark. Uggh. Clark. She didn't understand when he'd become such an important part of her life. She felt like 'with Clark' had become a permanent addendum to her name. Where was Lois? At the Planet with Clark. Who does Lois Lane share a byline with? With Clark. What does Lois do on her days off? She plays Guitar Hero with Clark. Can't find Lois, Chief? She's probably chasing leads. With Clark.

And yet, Lois knew Clark had a life outside of her. He was always disappearing, running off, chasing his own leads, coming to her with mysterious stories and asking her to help him investigate. Lois had never questioned it before; she'd always known Clark had secrets. Chloe had made that apparent, but before their story in Afghanistan, it had never mattered. Now, she never quit wondering. She sighed again. Lois seemed to be doing a lot of that, lately.

"Here you go, sweetheart," a gentle voice interrupted her. She looked up and appreciatively accepted a steaming cup of coffee, while Mrs. Kent set two saucers of pie down on the coffee table and fell into the seat next to her.

"You want to talk about it, Lois?"

"Nah, Mrs. Kent, I'm okay, really. It's just been a really long week at work, especially for Clark."

"I've noticed. I've been keeping up with your articles; you think Intergang is behind all of the random spikes in crime?" Lois took another sip from her coffee and let it warm her.

"Well, Clark does."

"And you two don't agree?" the surprise in Martha's tone made the unwarranted aggravation flare up in Lois' chest again. Did everyone assume the Lane-Kent team were one person?

"No, I do agree. I mean, I can't really agree, because I don't know anything, but I trust Clark. He's my partner, and he seems to know something I don't about it."

"Ah, you think Clark is keeping secrets from you." Lois shook her head--A fuller draft of coffee.

"No, I know he's keeping secrets from me. I've always known," Lois looked up at the slightly taken aback expression on Martha Kent's face, "but I just don't know if I should be alright with it anymore. I've always known that Clark shares the important things with the people he cares about, even if he can't tell them the big secrets, and I thought that was enough,"

"But now you're not so sure." Lois looked in Martha's eyes and nodded.

"I'm not oblivious. I see things that would make any reporter worth her salt jump, but I've learned when it's important to let things go, at least until you have the whole story. It's just that I'm to the point where I'm putting the pieces together, and I can't just ignore the picture even though I'm missing a few pieces."

"Lois . . ." "No, it's okay, Mrs. Kent. We don't need to talk about this anymore." Lois set her coffee down and pulled the piece of pie to her chest in comfort.

"Lois, you know that I have just as much obligation to you as I do to Clark. You can tell me." Lois shook her head.

"I gave some advice to Chloe several years ago, and I realize now that it was probably about Clark, but I'm having a hard time convincing myself to follow my own advice."

"What advice is that, Lois?"

"That if keeping a secret didn't hurt anybody, she should wait for her friend to come to her and try to be supportive in the meantime."

"And that was probably very good advice for Chloe, but I'm not sure it applies here." Lois looked long and hard at her pie.

"Maybe, you're right."

"I've gotten used to it over the years." Lois laughed lightly.

"I know that it's all connected. The arsons, and the bank robberies, and those hostages at that hotel today. I just can't prove it, and I know that Clark's investigating it behind my back which means he thinks it's too dangerous for me." Lois gave a frustrated growl, "I'm sorry Mrs. Kent. I don't mean to worry you with work; I'm sure you have plenty you're working on."

"We all do, but I think sometimes you and Clark work yourselves to death. I'm glad the two of you took the weekend off." Lois sighed at her empty saucer.

"Clark didn't want to. Shit. Don't tell him I told you that. Perry practically had to threaten him with his job to get him to take the weekend off. I wouldn't have either, but I was afraid if I stayed, Clark would too." There was a scowl on Martha's face.

"As stubborn as his father."

"Yeah." Lois choked a little on the word. "I think Lex has something to do with it, but Clark is convinced he's dead and buried, and Clark is too busy beating himself up about it to really listen." Lois said flippantly, annoyed not for the first time that Clark felt as though everything was his fault. "There was a little girl last week who got hurt in one of the suspicious fires, and he thought that was his fault too."

"You don't think Lex is dead?" Lois tried to ignore the skeptical look Mrs. Kent was giving her that was so much like Clark's, questioning her paranoia and stretch to find an answer.

"It's not so unbelievable; the Luthors have pulled off similar resurrections in the past, Lana included, and if Clark knows something beyond what I know about he's not saying anything. Trust me, I've tried." Martha nodded hesitantly.

"It's not easy for him," Martha said quietly, "to see people get hurt, especially children. Lex has always been a bit of a sore spot. Clark feels responsible for him, that maybe if he'd given their friendship another chance Lex would've changed his ways."

"That's ridiculous!" Lois growled. "I don't even understand what someone like Clark saw in him to begin with."

"Jonathan and I didn't understand it either, but it was something Clark saw. Clark thinks his own secrets are what destroyed Lex, drove him to obsession." Lois shook her head in disgust.

"Mrs. Kent? Did Clark tell you I was coming with him this weekend?" Martha shook her head in reply. "How did you know about this then," she said gesturing to the made up couch they were sitting on. The older woman smiled.

"I had an idea, a hope really. Clark always liked a full house, something of an only child syndrome. It's been lonely around here since Jonathan died. You, Kara, Lana: He's never been able to stand this house being empty."

A small pang of guilt struck Lois' chest as she remembered the large part of the last few years Clark had spent living alone in this very house, and the insistence he always had that she never skip a Guitar Hero weekend.

"Sometimes I wonder why he did come to Metropolis. The way he is with kids, I'd always imagined him settling down with a sweet girl and having litters of his own kids, living in domestic bliss on this farm for the rest of his life." It was a nice dream for her friend, but somehow Lois couldn't picture herself in the sweet girl position, frequented in her psyche by Lana Lang's face, a fact that made her feel something she refused to call jealousy. There was a sad look in Martha Kent's eyes.

"In an ideal world, I'm sure that's what Clark would've wanted too, but sometimes life shows us different paths that can be greater than what we originally imagined for ourselves."

"Yeah, a loud boss with coronary problems, a bowtie wearing photographer, and a partner who can't spell." Lois laughed, "everyone's ideal family." Lois received another sad smile from Martha and was frustrated that she couldn't pinpoint what it was that she was missing.

"I'm sure that it sounds comical to you, Lois, but I know Clark considers you apart of his family. I shouldn't be telling you this, but Clark probably won't be able to have his own children, so he likes to take care of those who don't have their own family. He sees himself in them."

"What?" Lois looked up in surprise, her face twisting in sadness, "Why didn't he ever say something?" Mrs. Kent patted Lois' leg affectionately and reached for the dirty dishes.

"I'm sure it's not something that comes up in everyday conversation." Lois stood up and followed her into the kitchen, silently watching her feet.

"Why is life so unfair?" she looked up, "to people like Clark, no less. He deserves better than this."

"Not unfair, Lois, just a different path, a path that I'm happy led him to you." Lois blushed and hugged Mrs. Kent before she could continue this line of conversation.

"Goodnight, Mrs. Kent," she whispered before running through the living room and kicking on her heels, heading out of the front door with more quiet finesse than she usually accomplished.

"Goodnight, Lois." The woman with graying red hair smiled knowingly at the light in the barn she could see through the kitchen window, as she cleaned up the remaining dishes.

_Smallville, Kent Barn_

Lois stood hesitantly at the bottom of the stairs to the loft, before she quickly pummeled up them. She was a pulling of the band-aid quickly kind of person, and she wasn't one to stand quietly until he noticed her, not tonight. He was standing at the open window, looking out like he usually did, in the place where his childhood telescope had once stood.

"I'd have knocked, but I think we've had this discussion before," she called, but he didn't move from where he was, even though she was sure she could see a small smile on the corner of his lips. He'd changed out of his work clothes and into a red t-shirt and a pair of jeans, such a bright color she hadn't seen him wear in more than a few months.

Lois walked up to him and leaned against the opposite side of the loft window. The cool Autumn air was refreshing against her enflamed cheeks.

"This doesn't look like chores to me," she said punching him affectionately in the shoulder. "If I didn't know any better I'd say you were avoiding me."

"Nah, Lois," he chuckled in a voice thick with disuse, "nobody can avoid you." He laughed lightly again, but she could tell he was hiding a cough in it. She furrowed her brow in concern, realizing for the first time how pale he looked.

"Smallville, are you okay?" she grabbed his shoulder lightly.

"Yeah," he shook off her touch, "I've just been overworking myself, that's all." Lois gave him a piercing look, but he just smiled and turned back to looking at his stars.


	2. Breathing

**Chapter Two: Breathing**

**"_The storm is coming but I don't mind. _**

**_People are dying, _**

**_I close my blinds. _**

**_All that I know is I'm breathing now. _**

**_I want to change the world...instead I sleep. _**

**_I want to believe in more than you and me. _**

**_But all that I know is I'm breathing._**

**_ All I can do is keep breathing._**

**_ All we can do is keep breathing now."_**

_Smallville, Kent Kitchen_

Martha Kent hummed contentedly while she went about making breakfast. It was one of her favorite hymns, one about a mother's love for her child. The melody was so soft and sweet while at the same time managing to be anxious. She understood the feeling perhaps more than any mother could, the overwhelming weight of knowing that her son was destined for a great and daunting future and despite how much she wanted him to be only her son, knowing that she had to give him away to the world and the rest of mankind. She sighed as she covered the plate of muffins she'd just removed from the oven and moved to the cupboard to pull out the canister of coffee there.

With a whoosh and a staggering rush of air, the can disappeared from her grasp, and Martha clutched her hands to her chest as she took a startled breath.

"Clark," she exclaimed, "You can't do that to me."

"Sorry, mom," Clark replied with an apologetic smile as he replaced the tin of coffee back in the cupboard, "but I wanted to talk to about something before Lois woke up."

"Is this something we can't talk about over a cup of coffee?" Martha chuckled in confusion.

"No, but as soon as the smell of coffee wafts up the stairs she'll come running, especially that kind," he said indicating the 'chocolate truffle' Martha had been preparing to make. "It's Lois' favorite. Keep the coffee maker off, and she'll sleep until noon." Martha Kent gave her son a curiously accusing look as he nervously leaned against the counter.

"You keep Lois' favorite kind of coffee stocked?" Clark's stance quickly became defensive towards the idea that the satisfaction of Lois' caffeine addiction was some sort of implication towards their relationship.

"Yeah, so she'll stay away from mine," he quickly said, "Before I got my own apartment in the city Lois spent a lot of her all-nighters working here or at Chloe's before deadlines on the weekends. It's left over from then." His mother noticed the falter in his voice at the mention of Chloe and let the subject drop with an insinuating look. Clark sat down at the kitchen counter with a blueberry muffin. Martha wiped the tabletop quickly with a damp washcloth and then sat attentively at the counter with her son.

"Then whatever you want to talk to me about, it has something to do with Lois?" Clark stared for a long moment at the grain in the wood beneath his fingertips. "Clark?"

"Yeah." Clark took a deep breath and looked up at his mother before examining the wood grain again, "Mom, do you think I should tell Lois my secret?" It all came out rather hurried, and Clark wasn't even sure if he'd gotten the sentence all the way out correctly before his mom replied.

"Yes, I do." Clark's head shot up.

"What?" he asked incredulously. He'd been certain that his mother would encourage him to do whatever he felt was right, but he'd never thought she'd so readily encourage this. Martha gave her son a questioning look.

"That's not the answer you wanted?" she asked in confusion.

"No, it's just that I didn't realize you'd have such a strong opinion, especially of this nature." Martha nodded.

"You expected me to give a lecture?" Clark smiled weakly.

"A little bit, yeah." He received a deep sigh in response.

"You know all those years your father and I raised you, this was my greatest fear. Of course, your father's was that he wouldn't be able to protect you, and that scared me too, but all of those times we warned you to keep to yourself, excluded you from things, taught you to mistrust people, I was so worried that when you did grow up and find the right person to trust--the important people in your life--that you would hide who you really were forever from everyone."

"I think that I should tell her, and I want to, but I'm not sure how to tell her." Martha smiled.

"I'd think it'd be easier this time than any of the others. I mean, really you've already told her everything there is to know about Superman; the only thing left to say is that Clark Kent _is _Superman." Clark grimaced at the thought.

"Maybe with anyone else that would've made the situation easier, but I have a feeling that that small omission is going to be the focus of Lois' frustration," Clark sighed, "The fact that I stood right in front of her and told her all about me but didn't tell her that it was _me_ is not going to go over well."

"Is that the only thing you're worried about, or is there something else?" Clark knew his mother was looking for the part of this conversation they'd had before, the one they'd had about Lana--several times.

"There is something else, but it's not what it used to be. I know that Lois will accept me for who I am because she already has, as both Clark Kent and Superman. I worry about her, I do, but I know if anyone could carry the weight of this secret it would be Lois, and I know that she can take care of herself, even if I don't like to admit it." Clark leaned into his arm and ran his fingers through his thick black hair. "I don't want to lose her trust though, and I don't want to lose the relationship I've built with her as Clark Kent. I like it that she punches me, and calls me names, and steals my coffee, and lets me edit her copy, even though she complains about it the whole time."

"Do you really think that will change, Clark? It's not as if you'll be a different person. Lois knows that."

"I know, mom, but I had a conversation with her once, about Ollie. The reasons she broke up with him had a lot to do with the position she would be in if I told her my secret. Lois won't sacrifice the greater good for her own wants and needs, and she would never put anyone in a position to choose between one or the other. I just don't want her to feel like our relationship has to be sacrificed in favor of saving the world." Martha's eyes grew a little wider.

"Is there a relationship between you and Lois?" she questioned.

"No, mom. I mean, Lois and I are just friends and partners," Clark blushed, "but it could be something more, someday, and I don't want to lose the opportunity before I even get a chance." Martha Kent sighed and looked earnestly at her son.

"Clark, Lois is a wonderful friend and a dependable partner, I'm sure, but that will never be anything more _any_ day, if you don't tell her the truth. What you have to ask yourself is if you can live with that."

_Smallville, Clark Kent's Bedroom_

Lois Lane turned over and stretched herself out as much as the small bed would allow. She wondered how someone of Clark's stature and build, even at the age of fifteen, had been able to sleep on such a small mattress, but this thought was driven from her mind by the glaringly bright sun burning her eyelids. Frustrated, Lois turned back the other direction and yawned before coming to the conclusion that all the energy she had expended in rolling over would not allow her to return to sleep. The digital clock on the nightstand next to the bed was facing the other direction, and so with another resigned yawn, Lois reached out to turn it in her direction.

"Dammit!" she cursed, jumping up. What kind of ungodly person had failed to brew coffee until 10:30 in the morning. More than a little annoyed, Lois stripped back the quilt and swung her legs over the side of the bed, hissing as her bare toes hit the cold floor. She gritted her teeth as she jumped up and quickly concealed her feet in a pair of bunny slippers that now only had three ears collectively.

Yawning, Lois looked down at her apparel and decided that her rather revealing camisole was a little too much for the delicate sensibilities of Mrs. Kent even if Clark could handle it. She went to the chest of drawers and leaned down to the third one from the top expending great effort in getting the massive thing open. There wasn't much there and Lois assumed that as Clark had been living in his own apartment for almost a year now these few spare T-shirts were a bit out of use. Most of them were dark colors, grays and blacks. Navy blue seemed to be the most populous, and Lois vaguely remembered that Clark's wardrobe had once been so much more colorful. There had to be a plaid article of clothing in there somewhere.

At the very back of the drawer, Lois found what she'd been looking for. A small stack that was crumpled into a disarray and neglected as socks were that fell behind the drier. There were three shirts. One a brighter blue and made of a tighter fitting material, a workout shirt maybe, one a simple bright red, and the last a faded button-up patterned in red plaid. Lois pulled it out of the place it had been shoved and relished her excavating skills.

Lois was surprised however when she discovered something else under the small pile. Pushing aside the remaining shirts, she reached in the drawer and produced a cigar box--Chavelos--her father's brand, and three heavy wooden picture frames, all empty. Lois took a moment studying those picture frames before realizing how familiar they were to her. She just hadn't recognized them without a certain raven haired beauty's picture behind the glass and the massive white knuckled hands of a brooding Kansas farm boy clutching them. Not sure what the absence of the usual pictures meant, Lois moved on to the cigar box wondering at its heaviness, when she opened it she wasn't surprised to see that Clark was as sentimental as she had always known him to be.

Sighing at the further impediment to her almost afternoon coffee now, Lois sat down with her back against the dresser, knowing despite the great invasion of privacy, she couldn't deny her curiosity. Reexamining the box's contents, the first things she noticed were Clark's cufflinks and wristwatch, both inherited from his father. She took out the watch and her eyes burned a little bit as she touched it. She'd remembered asking him months before why he'd stopped wearing it. Beforehand she'd never seen him without it once. He'd joked with her that being her partner had had so many occupational hazards he was forced to put it away for its own safety in favor of something more sturdy. Lois stroked the cracked face of the watch and gazed sadly at the motionless hands before putting it down beside her on top of the empty picture frames. She knew now why Clark had had the frown in his eyes as he'd laughed. God, he was such a horrible liar.

Next were the pictures of Lana that she assumed used to reside in the frames, and without spending much time looking at them, Lois threw those aside too. Underneath where they had been there were many little trinkets. The white boutonnière that Chloe had given to him at their spring formal was there in a small plastic sleeve. Lois wondered how it had been recovered from the disastrous wreckage of Chloe's wedding before adding it to the pile. There were baseball cards and an old pair of glasses, little metal cowboys and Indians. A red and yellow pennant flag emblazoned with "CROWS" covered a large silver bracelet in the corner of the box that had a blue stone set into the center of it. It looked Native American, but Lois had never seen it before, so she placed it aside and kept looking. Most of the box was empty now as she pulled out various things from Clark's childhood that she didn't recognize. Blushing, Lois quickly set aside a CD of Whitesnake songs she'd artfully decorated for Clark while on love potion 9 and grabbed up the stack of photographs and papers that had lined the bottom.

Snapshots of Clark and his friends in high school included the smiling faces of Chloe and Lana and Clark's childhood friend, Pete Ross, whom Lois only recognized from having covered his campaign for Kansas state senate. When the pictures continued into football games and senior prom, Lois was included in the pictures, and she shuddered at her across-the-forehead bangs and the hideous dress she'd literally been possessed into wearing. Lois couldn't help but noticing as the pictures became more recent the people in them seemed to diminish. Lana and Pete disappeared, and abruptly, so did Chloe. Lois choked up a little at the thought. The last of the stack were all of the two of them and her heart sped up at the thought of where she would be without Clark, where they would be without each other. The last picture had been taken by Jimmy at this year's Kerth Awards ceremony. They were laughing together, herself in a drop dead gorgeous black dress, and Clark looking equally handsome in a tux. Lois had been threatening to bludgeon Clark with the award that had boosted both of their careers out of the basement and to the city desk. She'd sworn she'd actually hit Clark's shoulder but instead must have hit the chair and chipped a piece off of the corner of the crystal monument.

Lois' eyes burned a little again when she noticed that the piece chipped off had been taped to the photograph. Before the sight of a saved hamburger wrapper from the joint they ate at on their lunch break could make her burst out in tears Lois turned to the remaining papers; they were all newspaper clippings. She recognized a few of Chloe's articles from the torch and much to her own shock the very first article she had ever written during her short stint for extra credit. All of the typos were circled in the red copy editing pen that the Daily Planet used. Chloe, obsessed with working for the Daily Planet since infancy had special ordered the same brand since she was a ten year-old cub reporter. She was sure Clark had inherited the same preference. Underneath one of her many misspellings of serotonin was scribbled in Clark's handwriting '_Rule 12: Spell check is a reporter's best friend : )_', and Lois couldn't help laughing. She found many of these various notes in the other articles, and was increasingly surprised to find that she had written a majority of them. There were clippings of Chloe's high school column for the Planet and her first articles, but there were an equal amount of her own: her Green Arrow exclusive for the Inquisitor, her first Red-Blue Blur story, their Kerth winner, their Intergang coverage. Clark had kept a tally of the number of near death experiences she'd encountered in pursuit of a story, and Lois even found the first story they'd written together; the byline was circled and underneath it '_the senior reporter's name goes first in the byline regardless of alphabetical order_' was written. Lois noticed however, that there were other articles not written by any of them, nor did she think there was any reason for Clark to have an attachment to the authors. After careful evaluation, Lois found the only commonality was that the collective mass were mostly all about Superman. The only thing Clark had written on each of these articles was an underlining of text and a number in the top right hand corner that seemed to increase with the dates of publication. Going back, Lois noticed that many of her own Superman articles had these numbers on them as well.

Curious out of her mind, Lois went back through them and began reading the parts that had been underlined: _Girl died in the fires . . . Three perished despite The Blur's heroic intervention . . . The Red-Blue Blur arrived on the scene moments after the explosion to keep a further train from derailing. Unfortunately, the original explosion killed two passengers . . . One hostage died from the injuries sustained during the robbery shortly after The Superman, formerly referred to as The Red-Blue Blur, brought her to the hospital._ The examples went on, and Lois furrowed her brow. It seemed that Clark was keeping track of the saves Superman _hadn't _made, and it didn't make much sense to her. As much as he liked to tease her about her fascination with him, Lois knew that Clark respected Superman, even admired him. What was with Clark's pessimistic wall of weird?

A loud _Knock! Knock!_ made Lois jump out of her skin, and she quickly began putting the pile of miscellaneous items back into the cigar box while Clark's voice drifted through the door.

"Lois, you awake?" Shutting the lid and grabbing up the frames from the floor Lois stood and pulled open the drawer.

"Hold on, Smallville. I'm indecent." She pushed the box and frames under the two remaining crumpled shirts and shut the drawer before grabbing up the plaid from the floor.

"You're always indecent, Lois." Buttoning the last buttons of the shirt, Lois furrowed her brow and opened the door.

"Is that so?"

Clark was wearing jeans and a hooded sweatshirt, holding a cup of coffee as a peace offering she supposed. Clark's own brow furrowed.

"Is that my shirt?" and Lois smiled.

"Yep."

"I thought you hated plaid."

"Still do," she smiled and grabbed the cup of coffee.

"You okay?" Clark said, concerned.

"Yeah, fine. Why?"

"That pot had been on for half an hour and when you didn't come running, I thought you might be sick." Clark replied in serious manner devoid of sarcasm. Lois rolled her eyes and took a sip.

"I was up late organizing research for a story on my laptop." Clark smiled smugly.

"So much for a day off." Lois glared and didn't gratify the taunt with a response. Clark leaned against the doorway, and Lois noticed, not for the first time, how exhausted and morose he looked.

"Are _you_ okay, Clark?" she asked, recalling the brief conversation of the last night. Maybe she wasn't the only one who had realized what this day was and wasn't looking forward to it.

"Yeah," he said quickly and then moved past the question. "Mom and I have already finished most of the unpacking this morning. Do you want to go out and get some breakfast with me? Or lunch depending on how fast you get ready." The invitation was common and casual enough, but Lois sensed a tone of urgency to it that made her wish she didn't have to decline.

"Actually, Smallville, I had some plans for this morning that I'm already late for, but I can meet up with you later if you want, kick your butt at guitar hero." Lois smiled a little halfheartedly, but she'd already decided upon how she was going to spend this morning, and she couldn't let her cousin down.

"Yeah," he smiled, "That's fine." Clark hesitated, "But, Lois, I really do want to talk to you about something tonight, so don't run off chasing some story. Okay?"

Lois nodded, and Clark turned to leave.

"See you later, Lois."

"Later, Clark."

Lois listened as he walked slowly down the stairs and then closed the door behind him, leaning against it and clutching her warm coffee mug into her chest to keep from crying.

_Smallville Cemetery_

Most of the headstones in Smallville cemetery were old and weathered. Life size stone angels were stained with years of moss and dirt that made them look weary and haunted. It was the sort of cemetery that became increasingly more sinister at night. For this reason among others, Lois was sure the majority of the Smallville residents were now more inclined to be buried in the newer Cemetery in town, Smallville Memorial. Here, a short walk from the Kent Farm, however, despite its eerie reputation, Lois felt as if the souls were more at home.

Generations of families and histories laid at rest here, and other than her mother--buried in Metropolis next to her father's empty plot in a veteran's cemetery--Lois's dearest family rested in the ground beneath her feet here. Seven years ago, one of the greatest men and fathers she had ever known had passed away. She'd watched the snow fall and Clark's defeated expression as if he bore the fault of his father's death all on his own. That had been the first and last funeral Lois had attended since her mother's and after that day she had decided that if she were to rest anywhere after death it would be here.

A mild fall frost had frozen the earth the night before, and melted by the early morning sun, the wet grass quickly soaked Lois' exposed ankles. She pulled her jacket tighter and cut through the plots instead of using the uneven path. Lois paused at Jonathan Kent's gravesite and closed her eyes to strengthen her resolve before moving on further through the quiet orchard of memorials. When she reached her destination, Lois' knees got a little shaky, and she knelt down onto the wet ground, hands quivering as she placed the Black-Eyed Susan she had clutched in her hand in the small stone vase next to the headstone.

Breathing here was harder than she thought it would be. Her heart was pounding from the exertion it took to keep from crying, and she felt more vulnerable and exposed here than she had in high school. Lois reached out to the headstone and traced the 'CH' of Chloe's name with trembling fingers before bowing her head.

"I didn't go to your funeral this time either, Chloe, but this time I do have a reasonable excuse," Lois began. "I was in the hospital, diving in head first without checking the water levels _again_.

"I'm still mad at you, cuz. That's why I didn't come sooner, but I couldn't be mad at you on your birthday, so here I finally am. Couldn't you, just this once, have been a coward? How come everybody I love has to be such a hero all the time? I mean, you were always sticking your neck on the line for me, and for everyone, complete strangers. Ollie's off gallivanting around the world with his compound bow. The General is the General, and Clark . . . . God, Clark is the worst one. You know, you never did get to tell me what the hell was wrong with his brain. The guy thinks he's Superman or something, keeps jumping in front of bullets and running after me into burning buildings.

"You're not here anymore to talk some sense into him, and I'm not sure I'm the best influence. You know me, always getting into trouble, and something has gotten into that farm boy head of his, that I'm his responsibility. Then there's all of those secrets he keeps, and it didn't matter to me before, but now it's different. We're more than just friends now; we're partners, and as great as it is, we can't ever completely get in sync. It wouldn't bother me so much if I didn't have this weird feeling, like he's off moonlighting for Ollie. You could've left a diary or something, you know--A User's Guide to Being Clark Kent's Best Friend." Despite her battle against them, the tears started to come anyway, and Lois choked a little bit on them.

"I . . . I don't know how . . . . I don't know how to do this without you, Chloe. And every time Clark makes some lame ass excuse and runs off or stands me up because he had a DVD rental to return, I wonder if it's going to be the last time I ever see him again. He's going to get himself killed, and then where will I be? Alone." Lois crossed her arms around her chest and tried to still the tremors.

"I miss you, Chloe. I feel alone all the time."

"You're not alone, Lois."

Jumping out of her skin, Lois stood shakily from the ground.

"God, Smallville. Déjà vu is not a happy feeling." She swung around, and the composed look on Clark's face crumpled at the sight of her. Before she could fall, his arms were around her, and Lois leaned heavily into Clark's chest as she cried. He rubbed circles on her back, and Lois closed her eyes.

"Did you follow me here?" she whispered.

"No." His voice was thick, and Lois wondered if he were crying too. She'd only ever seen him cry once. "When you left I decided to come early. I was planning on coming later tonight, after you went to bed."

"At night?"

"Yeah. It separates you from the outside world somehow."

"Masochistic isolation?" His chest rumbled beneath her.

"Something like that." Lois pulled away and looked Clark in the face.

"You're regressing, Clark. First, I catch you brooding in the barn, and now you're wondering around graveyards at night like a vengeful spirit?" Clark stepped behind her and walked toward the headstone.

"I'm here now, aren't I?" he whispered as he dropped a purple orchid in with the Black-Eyed Susan. "Happy Birthday, Chloe." Clark turned around, and Lois nodded, noticing for the first time that the orchid wasn't the only flower he'd brought. Lois stared at them for a moment questioningly, and Clark raised them.

"I know too many people here," he said and outstretched his empty hand for her to take. Lois nodded sadly and took his hand.

"Me too," she whispered back. Three was three too many, and Clark had more flowers than just for Chloe and Jimmy and his dad. Lois walked silently beside him as he paid his respects to friends Lois had never known.

"I'm not going anywhere, Lois," he breathed, and Lois shut her eyes hard, another tear escaping its entrapment.

"I believe you, Smallville," she lied.


	3. Wonderwall

**Chapter Three: Wonderwall**

**_I don't believe that anybody feels the way I do about you now.  
And all the roads that lead you there were winding,  
And all the lights that light the way are blinding.  
There are many things that I would like to say to you,  
But I don't know how.  
I said maybe,  
You're gonna be the one that saves me._**

_Kent Farmhouse_

It had started raining outside. Lois wrapped the flannel blanket tighter around her torso and sighed.

"It's a little stale, but still warm . . . Lois?" Lois pulled her attention from the water running down the window pane and looked up at Clark.

"Huh?"

"Coffee, Lois." Clark handed her a large mug, and sat down on the couch next to her. "I know this is a ridiculous question, but are you okay?" She took a large draft of the coffee and then settled it in her lap, warming her hands on the mug.

"Yeah, Clark, I'm . . . . You're right; that is a stupid question."

"I don't know why she picked me," Clark sighed as he scooted down so his head could rest on the back of the sofa, and his hands laid limply on the cushion next to him, "When she moved to Smallville, why she decided to love me. I depended so much on that love, but I could never give it back to her the way she deserved it." Lois snorted into her coffee.

"She loved you, because no one can be close to you, Clark, and not love you. She just figured it out before the rest of us that you were worth it." Clark smiled.

"Did you just say you loved me, Lois?" he teased.

"Yeah, Smallville, but I was coerced. You're like the little sister I never . . . Oh, wait, I've already got one of those." she hid a grin in a sip of her coffee, and Clark chuckled.

"We're kinda twisted, you know. Laughing and smiling."

"It's healthier than brooding." Lois said pointedly, but Clark didn't seem to be convinced. "And if Chloe were here she'd give you some major shit about your solitary midnight brooding sessions." Clark didn't say anything as the crease in his brow deepened. Lois recognized this as the 'guilty crease' his forehead took on when Clark was blaming himself for something that wasn't his fault. Clark was still silent, and Lois had never been able to put up with uncomfortable silences.

"When we were kids, Chloe and I kept in touch pretty well. When she moved to Smallville, you were everything she talked about, her best friend, the tall Kansas farmboy from Nowheresville with the dark hair and blue eyes who always made it home for dinner, did his chores, and held the door open for everyone. The truth was, for a long time, I was jealous of someone I'd never met. It used to be just me and Chloe against the world, and then she met you. I found Wes, and we're not gonna even talk about that, but eventually he left me too. When I got to Smallville, I was determined not to like you, that nobody could be as _good_ as Chloe said you were. I should have known better, Chloe was never one to exaggerate, and finding out that you were the genuine article made me even more determined.

I just couldn't believe there was anyone who could give a shit about everything, about strangers, about enemies, about people who stabbed you in the back . . . Or the heart. I wanted to hate you for it, and look where I am. Look who my best damn friend is. That's what Chloe saw in you, and she loved you for it. Now, here I am stuck loving you for it too." Clark looked up at her and paused.

"Thanks, Lois," he whispered, "I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me." "Don't push it, Smallville." She looked over at him, and he was still brooding. The crease was still etched there, almost deeper than before. "I'm tired of having to tell you this, Clark, but it wasn't your fault. Chloe made her own choices."

"And Superman, with all of the things he can do, you don't sometimes blame him for not getting there in time. . . . To save her." Lois twisted her expression in confusion. She thought about the private stash of newspaper clippings she'd uncovered earlier that day and wondered if this was maybe the reason for them. Clark blamed Superman for not saving Chloe when he couldn't. She understood it, but it made her angry.

"No, Clark," she said firmly, an edge to her voice that begged him to argue it, "Superman does everything within his power to help everyone he can, but he can't save everyone, and he can't be everywhere at once. You know that." Clark paused and contemplated his next question. A stubborn part of him worried that if he made the connection she would draw the line far enough to connect the truth, but another part of him thought that maybe it would help him to find a way to finally tell her.

"What if I had all of his abilities, Lois, everything Superman can do. What if I'd had the ability to save Chloe and I didn't? If I had let her die, would it be any different than killing her myself?" Now Lois was mad.

"Stop this," she growled, "Intergang killed Chloe! Not you. Not Superman. No one expects you to be Superman, Clark, and no on expects you to save the world."

And he wanted to tell her then, tell her everything, but it wasn't right. He wanted to tell her, because he wanted her to know that he trusted her, not because he was trying to prove that it was his fault that Chloe was dead. He nodded and conceded to her, leaning back into the sofa.

"I'm sorry, Lois," he sighed. It was the truth, so much more of the truth than he could ever give her, the truth for the lie he had to tell her, for the hurt he'd caused her, but it wasn't what Lois wanted to hear.

"Shut up, Smallville, and stop apologizing for shit." Clark found pathetically that he understood this to be Lois accepting his apology. He turned to look at her and was caught off guard by the tears falling down her cheeks silently. His face crumpled in pain as he took his bent finger under her chin and forced her eyes to meet his. He brushed his thumb over her damp cheek and listened as her breath hitched and her heart sped up.

"We're gonna bring Intergang down together, Lois, for what they've done to people like Chloe. You and me, we can do anything." Lois' face twisted in the effort to hold back a sob.

"Why do you always have to say the right thing?" she whispered. Clark's hand was cupping her cheek now, and before he had time to think about what he was doing, the short distance between them was closing. No one was screaming in his head to halt; it was as if for the first time since he was seventeen years old, he wasn't hearing everything at once. Sound had halted, all of the potential energy in that moment gathering just before it exploded. The sheer force of breaking the invisible tension between them had numbed the sensation in his lips when they finally did meet hers. It was a few moments before he realized he was kissing her, and then was he really kissing her. He was kissing _her_, Clark realized, but Lois wasn't kissing back, and so before the damage became irreparable he started to pull away.

And then she was kissing him back.

Lois Lane was kissing Clark Kent. The third person is what did it for him. She'd never kissed Clark Kent like this before. It wasn't Superman's hair her fingers were fisted in this time. Clark had that; Lois wasn't kissing Superman this time, but he was still here with them, in between them in a way that frustrated him and made him question his mental stability. Just as Clark began to pull away at the thought, Lois' lips froze against his. She'd discovered who she was kissing too.

Lois' heart slammed against the wall of her chest. She could feel the organ bruising at the repeated offense, and she loosened her grip from Clark's soft hair and rested her forehead against his.

"Why'd you do that?" she gasped.

Before Clark could quell the impulse that heaved his heart into his mouth and forced him to say what he really thought, he said what he really thought. Out loud.

"Because I love you." The words fell from his tongue, and Clark couldn't catch them before they crashed down around him. He heard the startle of Lois' heart, and caught her eyes as they darted towards his and then focused on looking anywhere but directly at him afterwards. The words didn't scare him anymore, but he could tell they still frightened Lois.

"Oh," she breathed. Clark was sure without his own supernatural aids it would have been almost inaudible, but even in its tenderness the lack of reciprocation of his sentiment stung him. Lois caught the flash of hurt on Clark's face and started to speak again, somehow searching for a way to repair her horrible blunder of a response, to explain, but Clark brought a large finger to her lips to silence her before she began.

"It's okay," Clark whispered, and he pulled away from her, instead seeking out her hand in his, "there are still so many things that I keep hidden from you, Lois, secrets that I keep, and they weigh me down sometimes more than I can bear; I just didn't want that to be one of them anymore." Lois looked up and locked eyes with Clark for a moment. The sincerity of his statement was made in that silent plea, and Lois nodded, taking his gesture as one where she no longer had to fill the air with meaningless words. He understood that she couldn't say that yet, not to him.

What Clark didn't know was that it was true. Lois did love him in return, and she wished there was some way for him to know that, but it was too much too fast. She squeezed his hand gently and then let go of it. She'd already given him what she could. She couldn't help loving him; he was her best friend, and she loved him like family, like she'd loved Chloe. She'd told him all of this, but she couldn't articulate the rest of it, and there was so much more. She loved him more than family; he was her best friend, but she wanted so much more than that.

Clark couldn't know how much. Lois couldn't afford for him to know how far gone she already was, because there was a potential now for Clark to ruin her into disrepair, and she couldn't put that pressure on him, couldn't place this on a pair of shoulders already so laden with responsibility and burden. She couldn't do that until he was willing to share those burdens with her completely.

So, instead of saying what she felt, Lois Lane, let go of Clark Kent's hand and stood from the couch with her cup of coffee in hand and the flannel blanket wrapped around her. She smiled at Clark, and like that, she was pretending he'd never kissed her, pretending that it was all some silly dream, that if Clark Kent really had kissed her she hadn't liked it nearly as much as she thought she had.

"I think I'm going to go back upstairs and check in with Perry on some of that research. I know he wanted both of us to take the weekend off of work, but I also know he's hurting for this editorial before Monday."

Clark nodded and stood from the couch.

"Yeah," he smiled weakly, "I have some chores on the farm to catch up on, but I still want to talk to you about some things, Lois. I'll meet you back here for dinner and a movie with my mom, and then maybe we can go somewhere quiet and talk."

Lois' mouth opened in a premature curiosity, but she closed it and nodded. She couldn't demand anything from Clark right now.

Clark wrapped an arm around Lois and pressed her face lovingly into his chest. He leaned down and placed a chaste kiss in her hair, squeezed gently, and released her. She smiled at him and turned towards the staircase, making her way up to his old bedroom.

Clark stepped toward the front door and paused, looking at the staircase before he opened the door and stepped out onto the porch. Clark released the focus of his hearing, like slackening a tightened rope. The cacophony of Smallville and Metropolis and Granville overwhelmed him for a moment, but it wasn't long before he was singling out specific sounds, cries for help, screams and sirens. Clark loosened the drawstring of his sweatshirt and brushed the material beneath it. These disasters and misfortunes were jobs for Superman, and right now being Superman was easier than being alone. He looked back at the front door for a moment, resisting the urge to shift his vision to Lois, turned back, and took a step slipping into superspeed and leaving the old wooden porch behind with a slight rush of wind that threw raindrops against the living room window in a palpitating rhythm.

_Kent Kitchen_

Lois scraped her fork absentmindedly against the plate again sending a scattering of peas into a half eaten pile of mashed potatoes.

"Is there something wrong with your potatoes, Lois?" Mrs. Kent asked, and Lois jerked from her reverie and looked at the older woman.

"No. No, of course not, Mrs. Kent." Lois sighed and quickly scooped a few more bites of the potatoes into her mouth before setting her fork down beside her plate. "I'm just not that hungry." she sighed again before staring at her unusually full plate.

"I would guilt you about how hard you work and how thin you've gotten, but I know your normal appetite is almost as big as Clark's was when he was sixteen. My son does this a lot doesn't he?" Lois looked up again and nodded.

"I wish I could be angry with him. I've been stood up and left hanging so many times, that I should be angry, but all I can do in these situations is worry." Mrs. Kent took up Lois' and her plates and walked them to the sink.

"I know the feeling."

"And he is such a bad liar! Every time he lies to me about where he's been or where he's going his voice doesn't falter, but he tries to apologize with his eyes, and it gives him away. And I know that Clark would never lie to me or anyone unless he were trying to protect someone. That apology; I should call him out on it and make him tell me the truth, but all it does is make me worry even more."

"That worrying never goes away, but someday, Lois, you're going to know why Clark isn't always around when he says he will be. I know that you mean very much to him."

Lois' breath caught as she felt the frustrated tears sting her eyes, but she didn't want to cry in front of Martha, and she didn't really want to cry anymore that day. She just wanted Clark to come home when he said he would. She wanted him to be there and to help her stop thinking about all of the things that made her want to cry. The stupid idiot could tell her he loved her and that they'd face the world together, but he couldn't show up to a simple dinner date.

"I know, Mrs. K." Lois choked a little on the words, and felt guilty about what had happened earlier that day. She'd wondered more than once since Clark had sent her an email saying he'd gone into the city for a few hours to check something at the Planet, if she'd hurt him so much that he needed to avoid her. Lois stood from her stool at the counter.

"I'm going to put an old movie in. Do you want to join me, Lois?" Lois shook her head in response. Whatever movie Mrs. Kent was going to watch, Lois was sure that she'd start crying about something stupid because she missed Clark's usual movie night embrace and his whispering in her ear about the inaccuracy of plot points and special effects.

"No, thanks. I think I'm going to go take a bath, go try and use all of the hot water before Clark gets home. Whenever he comes in tell him I'm not talking to him, and that he should take a shower."

Martha smiled a little and nodded before heading for the living room sofa. Lois made her way up the stairs to the bathroom and locked the door behind her.

_Metropolis Sky_

Clark could see the fire from a distance further than most people would ride a bus, but he could hear it clearer than if he were in the midst of it. The slum and tenement fires had been going on for more than a week now, and it was one of the larger signs that Intergang was once again involved in crime in Metropolis.

Clark willed himself to fly faster, reaching the flames at a rapid rate and rocketing like a bullet into a third story window. The smoke was thicker than the flames, and Clark had to shift his vision and hearing to find a little girl trapped underneath a broken metal bed frame. She was coughing and crying; her leg was broken. Still using his X-ray vision, Clark carefully lifted the frame off of her and stepped around a weak part of the floor that was about to collapse. He extended his hand to reassure her.

"I'm here to help you."

"Superman!" the little girl cried as Clark knelt down and scooped her into his arms quickly flying with her out the window before a beam fell from the ceiling and through the floor spreading the fire to the second floor beneath it. The girl hugged his neck as he delivered her into the arms of a firefighter.

"Thank you, Superman," the man replied as he carried her to the paramedics. Clark turned toward the five-story apartment building and scanned it again, finding only one more person on the highest floor. It looked as if they had been asleep when the fire started, and with the instability of the building Clark couldn't risk putting out the fire with his super breath until he had cleared it of life. He turned to the Fire Chief there.

"Keep all of your men out of the building. There's a man on the fifth floor. I'll get him and then be back to help with the fire." The Chief nodded in acknowledgement and Clark flew quickly through the fifth story window. The man there was unconscious on a mattress in the sparsely furnished room. The fire hadn't started on this floor, and so the flames had yet to reach him, but it was the copious amount of smoke that made this situation deadly.

Clark hadn't been worried about it, but when he rushed in using his X-ray vision the smoke stung his eyes and choked his breathing. He gasped and this made it worse. The discomfort of not being able to breath panicked Clark. There was something wrong here, and though, if Clark really admitted it to himself, he'd been feeling under the weather for almost a month now, it hadn't really occurred to him that he might be in danger. Clark coughed heavily, and dropped to the floor to try and avoid the smoke. After he'd regained his breath for a moment, Clark took a deep breath, though it nearly choked him again, and blew the smoke forcefully out of the room. He lifted the man from the mattress and flew slowly out the window and to the ground, placing him on a gurney for the paramedics to attend to.

Clark looked into the sky as a heavy rain began to fall. After another forceful and choking cough, sure that mother nature and the firemen could take care of the fire themselves, Superman rocketed into a nearby phone booth, and exited as Clark Kent. He leaned against the wall of the booth and tried to take a few breaths. Still wheezing slightly, Clark made his way through the sparse crowd and to the barricade, catching the attention of one of the higher up police officials.

"Excuse me, sir. Clark Kent, Daily Planet. I know you can't release any official information yet, but does anyone have any idea what might of started this fire." He didn't look too unwilling to cooperate.

"You're right Mr. Kent, we can't release any official information yet, but you've covered plenty of these similar fires. The usual suspects are under investigation: cigarettes, candles, drugs, shotty electrical." Clark nodded.

"Any unusual suspects under investigation, Sergeant? Is there any possibility of arson?" Clark expected the same usual answer. With the homeless and impoverished victims of these fires, not many things were investigated too closely.

"An HVAC company, Carson & Son, did some work on a few of the nearby buildings that have been involved in the recent fires as well as this one. A connection to maintenance failures is being looked at, but prematurely, this one looks to be ruled an accident just like the others." Clark coughed and furrowed his brow. "I'm afraid there's not much more that I'm allowed to release to press, Mr. Kent. Send my regards to Ms. Lane."

"Thank you, Sergeant."

_Kent Upstairs Bathroom_

Lois was beyond prune wrinkly, all of her bubbles had dissipated, and the water had chilled before she unwillingly pulled herself up from the tub. She drained the water and wrapped her arms across her chest before reaching for a towel and the emergency change of clothes she kept neatly folded underneath the sink. It was another flannel button up and a pair of gray drawstring shorts. They'd been in the cupboard underneath the sink for so long that they smelled slightly sour, but they were warm and dry and comfortable. Lois dried and changed quickly before running a brush she'd left in here earlier through her hair. She didn't bother to look at the mirror, covered in steamy condensation as it was, and gathered up her dirty clothes before making her way to the bedroom.

Lois threw her dirty clothes with poor aim into the duffel bag she had brought with her and grabbed up her phone before walking quietly down the stairs. The light was still on in the kitchen and Mrs. Kent was comfortably watching Casablanca from the couch in the living room, the same couch where earlier that day Clark had told her he'd loved her. Lois stood against the beam in the doorway and looked at Mrs. Kent.

"No Clark yet?"

"No. Not yet. Come sit down with me, Lois." Mrs. Kent was good at keeping the worry from her voice, but like Clark, it showed in her eyes. Lois nodded and walked slowly to the sofa. She sat down beside Martha in her outstretched embrace and leaned against the woman comfortably like she used to her own mother when Lois was a little girl. Martha rubbed circles on her back and they watched the movie together silently.

Lois kept her phone close to her chest but Clark never called. She'd lost track of the movie long ago and began glancing at the time on her phone more often than it changed. She looked up at the TV, frustrated. This movie was longer than she remembered, and despite her disinterest and inattention it was making Lois drowsy. Mrs. Kent's loving motherly caresses and Humphrey Bogart's voice were lulling her to sleep. Lois' eyelids drooped and her curled fingers slackened just as the shrill ring of her phone reverberated off of the walls of her skull. Mrs. Kent jerked a little as Lois shot up from her resting position.

Lois' heart pounded heavily in her chest for a moment before she looked down at the caller ID on her phone. She stood and walked into the kitchen apologizing silently to Mrs. Kent as she answered.

"Chief?"

"Lane!! I thought I told you and Kent to take the weekend off!"

"We are, Chief."

"Well apparently not. You're emailing me editorials, and Kent is in the bullpen pedaling stories about tenement fires. Lois, I told you I was worried about the kid, and here he is all pale and wheezing about his car breaking down in suicide slums. I can't afford for my two best reporters to be working themselves to death on the job. Too much paperwork."

"Slow down, Chief. Clark is there with you?"

"No, Lois. He was trying to file some story about suspicious fires. I found him asleep at his desk. I woke him up and told him to go home, and he said his car had broken down on his way back from suicide slums. I called him a cab and sent him back to Smallville, and I'm taking it out of your paycheck, Lane. Make sure he stays there. I don't want to see or hear from either of you until Monday." He hung up without a reply.

Lois looked at the phone for a moment and then looked to the living room where Mrs. Kent was turning off the television.

"Everything alright, Lois?"

"Yeah, Clark is on his way. That was Perry."

"Good," Martha replied, relieved. "You ready to turn in?" Lois gave a fleeting glance to her phone and then looked back up at Mrs. Kent. "You go ahead, Mrs. K. I think I'll wait up for Clark and give him what's coming to him." She nodded and made her way up the stairs.

"Goodnight, Lois."

"Goodnight, Martha."

Lois sighed, checked the time on her phone, and walked into the living room. She laid down facing the front door and pulled the blanket off of the back of the couch onto her. Clutching her phone, Lois stared at the door, and waited.

_Kent Farm_

Clark took a step up the front porch and stopped, trying to take another deep breath and then choking on it as he had the last twelve. After recovering, he settled on a shallow wheeze and took the last step up to the porch and to the front door, pausing to focus his hearing on two steady, sleeping heartbeats. Clark opened the front door slowly and leaned against it as it closed, closing his eyes and swallowing another cough so as not to blow the back door off of its hinges. His chest hurt, and his head felt like it was being crushed in a vice.

"You're late."

Clark's eyes flew open and his heart stuttered as his vision blurred in an effort to force the darkness from hindering his sight. All he could make out was a distant light and Lois' menacing silhouette.

"Lo-" he began, but was interrupted by a fit of coughing he could no longer contain. He wheezed for breath, but every inhalation was stunted by another stream of hacking coughs.

"Clark?" her menacing tone was replaced by startled concern, "Are you okay?" Lois crossed the distance between them quickly to observe Clark as well as she could there in the dark. He was still coughing and wheezing. He took a few shuddering breaths, and Lois ran her thumb over his cheek and her fingers through his hair, worry splitting her forehead.

"Clark?" she asked again, and he embraced her weakly. She could feel him shifting a lot of his weight onto her, as she rested her head against his chest.

"I'm sorry, Lois," he whispered, "I didn't mean to worry you, and I didn't want to leave you hanging again; it was so important to you, to both of us, that I be here, and I wasn't. I never could do this part right by you." He was still breathing difficultly, Lois noticed as he spoke softly to her ear.

"It's okay, Clark. We can talk later; we have all the time in the world. Right now you're not feeling well and you need to rest." He didn't argue as she slowly helped him walk to the sofa and helped him lie down. She placed several throw pillows underneath his head so that he would be able to breathe easier. He closed his eyes and ran his hand over his face as she covered him with the blanket.

Lois turned to head upstairs, but his large hand engulfed her petite one, and she turned back to his dark form.

"Stay."

Lois paused and quickly shed the tears that had been stinging at her eyes all of the night. She was hurt and wounded more than anytime Clark had ever stood her up, but it was more painful to see him like this. Somehow, she'd always pictured him as invincible, her invulnerable pillar of strength. Lois squeezed his hand and quietly climbed underneath the blanket with him, overlapping his body with hers on the poor groaning sofa. She laid her head on his chest, and he encircled her with his arms. Occasionally, his chest would heave with the coughing he couldn't hold back, and Lois would wince, but eventually his breathing evened out, and the shudder of his chest was the only sign that his breathing was labored. She wrenched her eyes shut, and a few hot tears leaked out onto Clark's dress shirt.

"I love you," Lois whispered.


End file.
